


The Infamous 10

by MahaliaPride



Category: No Fandom
Genre: An Unexpected Journey, Asexual Character, Character Death, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Evil, Fighting, Gen, Good, High School, I Mean The Government Fucked Up, Lithrosexual Character, Magic, Minor Character Death, Minor Character(s), Non-binary character, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pansexual Character, Prophecy, Psychic Abilities, Quests, Sparring, Trans Female Character, Violence, Warnings May Change, Writing Prompt, category may change, kind of, references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-09-18 22:27:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9405656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MahaliaPride/pseuds/MahaliaPride
Summary: "You are a teenager with the ability to sense someone's 'danger'. A newborn is a 1 and a trained man with a weapon is a 7. One day at school you get a transfer student. You see the new kids number is a 10."





	1. I didn't think I'd actually see a 10

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anonymous Friend](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Anonymous+Friend).



My name is Ashley Grofer. My name means "Pure of heart", based off of the African name, Asho. Ever since I can remember, I could always see numbers above people's head. I could see the numbers as long as the image I was looking at was alive. I could see the people on the news and their numbers. I could see the classroom pets' number from primary school. I never used to know what the numbers meant though. These numbers glowed more, the higher the number. 

Of course as time went on I learnt that this was the "danger level" of people. A newborn baby would be ranked 1, and an armed and trained soldier would be an 8. 

I've never seen a 10 though. Even when looking at terrorists. They ranked a 9. 

My parents are both 4's and my baby brother, Abel, is definitely a 10 in my opinion. His name meant "second son of Adam and Eve." I had given my parents quite a scare by saying to them, "He's a monster. We have to burn him. He'll kill people. " While holding him just after his birth. 

Abel, even though he's only 10, ranks a 3. The little demon should be _way_ more. 

Usually I paid no mind to these numbers and I only really look at someone's number when I meet them for the first time.

The numbers can get...overwhelming sometimes...

These numbers make me very careful around people, and I find it hard to trust people. I have hardly any friends, and can't seek out help to people, about my ability. 

Of course I've made it my "hobby" to find comfort in knowledge. I would learn the meanings of names and their origin. I would learn binary codes or formulas. I would learn a phrase in every language. I would recite pi or the periodic table. Little talents that I could show off. 

This morning I had woken up, as usual, oblivious, to the upcoming storm. 

\---- 

Justin Beiber's "Baby", played from my alarm, but was stopped before any crappy melody could be heard. The alarm's new tune had been proving useful, when I had to wake up. In fact, I woke up 5 minutes before my alarm, just so I could turn it off quicker. 

I stretched, receiving a satisfying pop from my back. Slowly, I trudged to my closet and grabbed whatever I could smell without barfing. Jeans and a loose and simple white shirt. 

Stepping out of my room, I couldn't get two feet before Abel, runs past screaming something like "Can't I just be a freeloader!?!"  
Hm.  
I brush my teeth and almost choke on the paste from yawning. Not my way to go, I think as I rinse my mouth. 

Downstairs, my parents are looking out from the front porch, and looking around our neighbourhood. The sky's have been clouded over for the past week, enough though it's summer. My dad and mum share a embrace. It's cute, and makes me wonder why they are ranked 4 out of 10. 

My dad, Lucas, is dressed like a typical family man. His dark pants, button up and old man vest, make him look so old. Especially the dorky glasses and terrible moustache he has insisted on growing. Dad has hair that looks like it's from the 70's. I smile a little at that thought. 

My mum, Cara, is more modern. She wears a loose and pink shirt and jeans. Mum has black shoulder length hair that is "very hard to tame" according to her. My parents sit there, in each other's arms, drinking a coffee. I smile and turn to make some toast for breakfast. 

At that time, Abel comes rushing down the stairs. His hair sticks up in all places, and for less than a second, he looks a little cute. Even if he is a 3. He bounces over, "Can I have toast?"  
"Uh, yeah. What do you want?" 

Abel seems to think hard. "Alien juice" he says sternly. I burst into a fit of laughter. "I'm sorry you want...what?" I can hardly say between my laughter. Abel seems a little taken aback. Like he is wondering why I don't find "Alien juice" a plausible toast spread. 

"I mean that's what superheroes eat on their toast!" He protests, his cheeks going red. "No they don't. They eat victory. And victory..." I paused and grabbed a jar of peanut butter, "comes in the form of this." 

Abel grabs the jar at lightning speed, twists the lid open, and dunks his whole hand into it. 

Abel pulls his hand out of the jar and it's _covered_ in peanut butter. Abel stuffs his hand in his mouth and runs back up the staircase. 

I just stare at Abel retreating up the staircase. 

Sighing, I turn back to the toaster and pull out my toast. I can forget about using peanut butter. 

I decide to just eat it plain. 

"Mum?" I call out from the kitchen, after I finish my toast. She looks up, "Can we go to school now?"  
"Yes let's go." Mum stands up and calls Abel downstairs. 

The drive to school is quite. 

School really is the same old everyday. Go to school. Go to class. Get study material. Go home. Repeat. 

Mum says her goodbyes and drives off. I walk through "Parade High School" gates. 

By the time I've pulled the materials that I need out of my locker for the first class, and get to class, there's only 5 minutes before the bell rings. My desk is in the first row of desks out of the four. Two rows back, three columns to the left out of the seven, is an empty chair. 

This chair is two rows behind my chair. And I never used to care about it for the first term. 

The bell rings and Mr Sida, the German narcissistic teacher, strides in. On time as usual. He's such an asshole. And he's our teacher for science and homeroom. 

"Good morning class. And good morning to Jared who is late and is standing outside the door. You're welcome to join us soon." 

Jared, the class loser, huddles inside, ashamed and embarrassed. "Thank you. " Mr Sida says with a thick sarcastic tone. 

"Now that you are all accountable, I hope you'll be happy to know that there will be filling the seat in the middle of our classroom." 

Suddenly there seemed to be a human shaped shadow outside the door. Muffled giggles from the girls could be heard and the boys were slapping each other. They seemed to be making bets on something. 

"West, you can come in now. " 

"West" walks in. It's not the bleached blonde hair that gets my attention or the piercing green eyes. It's not the small smile or wink he gives me. It's not even the way he looks at me that gets my attention. 

It's his number. 

_The red, pulsing, and firey 10._


	2. What do you want from me?

I just freeze. I don't know what do. _What do I do?_  
What is West planning? I feel the hairs on the back of my neck and my hand go clammy. 

A voice pulls me back into reality, "I'm Aaron West. I live a few blocks away and I'm pleased to make your acquaintance." I had a "feeling" that, that wasn't quite true. 

Mr Sida just smiled as the girls crowded around Aaron and squealed. 

"Can I get your number?"  
"Are you free after school?"  
"There's this killer party on the weekend!"

I was surprised to see that the ladies weren't flustering Aaron. "Sorry ladies but you aren't really my type." Aaron said cooly, smiling like a playboy.  
"What's your type?" The girls questioned all at once. 

Aaron seemed to think, "My type is probably...." Aaron's emerald eyes scanned the classroom. He smiled, "People like this!" He placed a hand on my head. 

What. 

I looked up at "Aaron" and started. Clearing my throat I said "I'm sorry Aaron. I don't 'swing' that way. In fact, I don't 'swing' in any way..." His face falls, and I can't help but feel that I've put a crack in his diabolical plan. 

I suppress my smirk. 

"Alright enough of that!" Mr Sida snaps, "get back to your seats!" Everyone hurried back to their seats. Through out the whole period, I can feel Aaron drilling holes into my skull.

I somehow survived. 

At recess, Aaron grabs my clothes, drags me into the bathroom, and slams me against the wall. 

My head connects with the wall and my vision starts to blur; my head feeling like it'll explode. "I need your help." 

I mange to get out a weak and small, "What?" Aaron looks down and clears his throat, recomposing his stance. "Haven't you realised?" He pauses, "the anomalies that have been happening lately?" He looks at me with a questioning look. "Unfortunately, I don't know what you're talking about?"

This guy is creepy _and_ insane. 

"Look mate," he starts  
"-they actually." He looks at me strangely again. "I'm not a girl or a boy." I confirm.  
"Oh." Aaron raises his eyebrows, "well that is the least of our problems, human. The world is having a crisis."

"-they can solve it themselves okay? I'm done being the creepy, abnormal one! You think I wanted to see numbers? You think I was prepared for something like this? _I'm just a teenager! Stop with this unnecessary bull!_ " I look at him with ready eyes. 

He's shocked. 

I swear I hear him whisper under his breath something about, "it's true--numbers--chosen"

His arms move to my shoulders and he grips them firmly. I flinch a little. He relaxes his grip and looks me dead in the eye. "We won't be alone. This isn't only your burden to bear." 

He releases me and my legs give out. I stare at the ground and clench my fists. 

I push myself to stand up and trying not to let my voice waver as I say four terrible words. 

_"I won't do it."_

His eyes look like they're about to pop out of their sockets. _"What?"_ he chokes out. 

I clear my throat and stand taller, "I said, _'I won't do it'_."

_"Why?!?"_

"Look!" I begin, feeling the rage boil up inside of me. "You think I _haven't_ realised that there is _something_ wrong with our world? Look I realised! I just wanted to believe in the saying _'ignorance is bliss'_ for a little while longer!" My voice cracking at the end, tears threatening to stream down my face and fill oceans. 

"I realised..." My voice is small, "and if this world is in danger then I won't be saving every damn person in it. Including me. _I can't_."

I look at Aaron. 

He's crushed. 

"Electi-" he begins, then hesitates, he looks down, "Well I guess.... _I'll just have to do this_." Before I can ask what he meant, his eyes go steely and he pulls out something from his pocket and jabs it in my abdomen.


	3. I refuse to believe this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any mistakes I haven't beta-d this chapter yet

I crack open my eyes, that feel stuck together by glue, and sucked of water into two, dry rocks. The room I'm in is stuffy and looks like a medical tent. 

There are surgical tools and medicine I didn't know existed on the bedside table. There is sunlight cracking the fabric of the tent roof, and I'm only the patient in the vast space. 

As I move to get up, pain shoots up through my abdomen. Groaning loudly, I collapse back onto the makeshift bed underneath me. 

_What did Aaron do to me?_

I consider lifting up my tshirt and mentally debate it for 30 seconds. 

_I'll have to see what is underneath. I'll have to see what he did to me._

_I may not like it._

_But I have to._

I have my hand linger over the place on my abdomen where it hurts. Breathing heavy, I lift up the material. My breath hitches when I see what was under the shirt. 

A long and piercing type of wound is carved into my flesh. 

A tattoo. In the form of a symbol. A thunderbolt? There's also some Latin underneath that I can't understand. 

What am I now? Freaking _Harry Potter_?

I'm pulled back from my thoughts when I hear the ground crunching under pressure outside my tent. I can feel sweat gather on my forehead. The person stands outside my tent for a while and, to my relief, turns out to be Aaron, when the tent is opened. 

He sets his eyes on me and smiles so wide that his eyes crinkle. When I don't return the smile, Aaron goes restless. "Look I'm sorry-" he begins.  
"That you've given me the mark that Harry Potter has, meaning I'll have to go on a quest and defeat a dark lord, all the while befriending two people who will accompany me through thick and thin as we all try to keep a relatively normal life. Of course the rival and magic is probably not included?"

Aaron stares at me for a while, his left eye twitching a little. He takes a deep breath, and I can tell I've gotten to him. He sighs, muttering something like, "Why do they insist on acting like this..." I smile at his correct use of pronouns. 

_Tut tut don't let your guard down._

"No." He says, "We weren't planning on you having to defeat the dark lord but since you're offering then it would be gracious of you.... _Electi Unus_ "

"Um excuse me, _what?!_ " I say choking on my saliva. 

" _Electi Unus._ It's what you're called here. Among my people. You aren't known as Ashley."

What. 

I sigh, "Look Aaron, where am I and how do you know my name?"   
Aaron can see my bewildered face, he clears his throat, "Here let me show you. It's a lot easier that way." He winks and holds out his hand. 

_Should I take it?_

Hesitantly, I grab his hand, scared that he'll snap it sideways the moment it's in his grasp. His hands are warm and kind, but this doesn't mean I can let my guard down. 

Aaron leads me outside and the sun glare is significantly brighter than inside the tent. 

_Are we in the fucking desert..?_

Looking around, I see people of all ages and colours enjoying themselves. 

Two children building a castle out of blocks, a teenager knitting, an elderly telling stories to group of people, and everyone has a smile plastered on their face. 

This may have been a beautiful sight; if only there wasn't so much red above their heads.  
I hate to admit it, but I grabbed Aaron's hand a little tighter, and stepped closer to him, as I asked with a voice coated with anxiety, "Aaron.... Why is everyone here a 10?"

"Well what's wrong with that?" He says looking a little concerned. 

"They're dangerous Aaron! What am I doing here?" 

Aaron turns to me, "Wait, so you can't see your number?"

I looked at him with fear blown eyes, "No, why? What's wrong?" Aaron turns to look away, "Aaron for goodness sake, tell me!"

He looks at me, mirroring my fear, "Ash...you're an 11."

I freeze just like the first time I saw Aaron. Sweat beads on my forehead and neck and I feel like I'm about to pass about. 

"Oh my god..." I grab Aaron's shirt to prevent myself from collapsing. "Wait how can you see my number..?"

Aaron grabs me and directs me back to the tent, "I can't. The ritual knife I stabbed you with," I look at him with confusion but he continues talking, "can only have affect on the _Electi Unus_. The _Electi Unus_ is the only person who is ranked 11. And there's only one to appear in history." 

He looks and smiles at me, "You. I was lucky enough to be alive in the time period that the _Electi Unus_ lived." 

"I just need to lie down. Tell your people that the " _Electi Unus_ " is tired."

Aaron hugs me, "Will do, Ashy-o!" Aaron leaves the tent and a small smile on my face. 

I sigh a little as I lay on my bed. It's peaceful when the world fades to black.


End file.
